


Once Upon a Winter Morning

by DelightfullyDifficult



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 17:46:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13463358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelightfullyDifficult/pseuds/DelightfullyDifficult
Summary: Killian muses during a snowy morning in Storybrooke.(Written as part of the 2017 Captain Swan Secret Santa)





	Once Upon a Winter Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emmasfairytale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmasfairytale/gifts).



> Yeah... Christmas was a month ago... and I am only now just posting this here...

              It was a cold winter morning in Storybrooke when Killian woke about an hour before dawn.  Despite the fact that it had been a couple of years since he had more or less settled permanently in the town after traveling to the realm with Cora, he had yet to break himself of the 300-year habit of waking early.  Even after his darling wife had kept him up late into the evening.

              Said wife was curled up against his side and using his chest as a pillow instead of the half-dozen they kept on their bed.  Not that he minded.  Even after a year of marriage, he had yet to tire of waking up with Emma in his arms and he doubted he ever would.   His hand stroked her long blond hair and he gently teased out any tangles he found, careful not to wake her.  If anyone deserved a chance to sleep peacefully, it was Emma Swan.

              Being sheriff of the small but magical town of fairytale creatures, even if she shared the post with her father, was not an easy task.  On more than one occasion, they had both stumbled into bed after a long day, only to be woken a scant few hours later by some otherworldly emergency.  Some days, the hours they spent asleep were the only time they would get to spend together. After all, the sheriff and deputy wouldn’t always work every situation together.

              As much as Killian wanted to remain in bed and snuggle with Emma, the need to empty his bladder eventually forced him up.  He carefully extradited himself from Emma’s arms and arranged his pillow to serve as his replacement.  She immediately buried half of her face into the soft down.  He placed a kiss on her hair as he stepped into a pair of boxers and his slippers.  Henry had given him a pair decorated with the Disney cartoon Captain Hook for his birthday earlier that year.  Emma still giggled each time she saw him wear them, but Killian wouldn’t trade them for anything.  It meant too much to him that Henry accepted him as part of the family.

              Once he had relieved himself, Killian pulled on his bathrobe and headed downstairs.  He hit the switch on the electric kettle and dropped a bag of Irish Breakfast into an empty mug.  Once the water was heated and his tea seeping, he made his way to the living room and pulled back the curtains on the large windows.  The porchlight illuminated a fresh layer of snow that hadn’t been there the night before.   Six inches or so had fallen, based on the accumulation on the banister.  In the yard, the fresh powder rested on top of a foot of the hard, compressed snow left by previous storms.

              Killian finished his tea and placed the mug in the sink.  He climbed the stairs and snuck back into his and Emma’s bedroom to grab his hook, a warm shirt, wool socks, and a pair of sweat pants. He added a heavy jacket and boots and headed out to the shed.  August and Geppetto had helped him build a modified snow shovel with a reinforced hole for him to slip his hook into so that he could help with the winter upkeep.  

              It had gotten a lot of use.  

              A life on the sea had prepared Killian for much, but not for winters in New England.  

              The first nor’easter of the season had arrived shortly after Halloween and dropped over a foot of snow in one evening.  After digging themselves a path from the house, he, Emma, and Henry had spent the day helping the citizens of Storybrooke escape from their own homes. Afterwards, they’d sat around the fire at the David’s house and had hot cocoa with cinnamon.  And the next day, both he and Emma had had to take some painkillers just to get out of bed.

              Killian wouldn’t give it up his life in Storybrooke from all the gold in the world, though.  Not only because he desperately in love with Emma, but he’d become unexpectedly attached to a number of other people in the town.

              His relationship with Snow and David may have started off on rocky footing, but now he was trusted enough by the royal couple to babysit the young prince even when Emma wasn’t around.  Henry had come to him for advice on shaving when he’d started getting facial hair, which had had David acting like a wounded puppy for a day, but Killian had been thrilled.  He’d bought his step-son a well-crafted straight razor, shaving brush, and other necessities and he had spent a pleasant afternoon teaching Henry the fine art of facial hair care.  

              Emma had stared at him in shock for a couple of minutes when Killian had greeted her at the door with a freshly shaved face.  It had grown back within a couple of days, much to Emma’s relief.  She had told him that while she had enjoyed the break from beard burn in sensitive places, she’d missed the way it felt against her face when they kissed.  Killian was curious on how she would react if he let it grow instead of keeping it trimmed short.

              It was winter, after all, and despite what Emma thought, he did feel the cold.  Rather acutely, actually, especially on his face and ears.  Which were, at the moment, reminding that he’d forgotten to put on hat before going outside.  He set his shovel aside, pulled off his glove with his teeth, and carefully touched the rims of his ears.  He flinched at the icy feel of them.  

              Killian looked about.  The sun had risen while he’d been absorb in his task, but it was hidden behind the clouds.  He’d managed to clear the walkway that led from the house and much of the sidewalk. A few spots of ice remained, but they would need to be salted before they would be lose enough for him to remove. He decided he could take care of that later, when his ears weren’t freezing, and headed inside.  

              Back inside the house, Killian hung his coat on the rack by the door and left his boots on a mat to dry.  He hummed when he slipped his feet back into his slippers.  They were warm and cozy, if atrociously decorated.  As he made himself another cup of tea, his ears started to burn and tingle as the heat of the house warmed them.  Next time, he told himself, he wouldn’t forget to wear the simple black winter hat Emma had bought him.  A beanie, she called it.  He wouldn’t forget to wear the beanie.

              Tea in hand, Killian returned to his and Emma’s bedroom.  While he had been gone, Emma had cocooned herself in the blankets.  The spread of her hair across a pillow was the only clue he had of her approximate location on the large bed.  His preferred pillow was nowhere to be seen.

              Killian set his tea on the side table.  He removed his sweats, boxers, socks, and flannel top and tossed them toward the laundry bin.  He missed. Not caring, he carefully pulled on the edge of the duvet until enough was free for him to slide beneath it. Almost immediately, Emma reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him deeper into her nest.  She curled up against his side and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.    

              Emma yelped.  For one terrifying moment, Killian thought he had injured her with the point of his hook.  His heart beat wildly in his chest.  It wasn’t until his mind registered Emma’s cry of “Cold! Cold!” that his fear abated.

              He chuckled as he reached over and removed his hook from his brace.  The metal was extremely cold to the touch; it hadn’t warmed up at all, it seemed, since he’d come inside.  He placed it next to his tea.

              “Sorry, love.  I was shoveling the walkway.”

              Emma peaked her head out from under the blankets, frowning.  “I thought we agreed not to go anywhere today.”

              “’If we don’t clear the snow when it is fresh, it’ll just be harder to move later’,” Killian quoted.  David had repeated that statement many times since winter had begun, almost like a mantra.  Killian figured it was to keep himself motivated as storm after storm dropped more snow on the town.  

              Emma rolled her eyes before saying, “What good is having a teenager in the house if we can’t have him to do the distasteful chores?”

              “He can finish the sidewalk than.”

              Emma hummed in agreement and snuggled closer.  She rested her head his chest.  “Good.  We’re staying in bed until at least noon”

              Killian kissed the top of Emma’s head and pulled her closer.

              “I like the sound of that.”

              His tea went cold on the nightstand.


End file.
